Chapter Thirteen: Yang Zixu’s Setting Sun

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“Liangzhou’s Li Fu will face Wang Wei from the Marquis of Hundred Battles’ household.”

The official in charge of drawing lots announced this with indifference.

“Wang Wei! There must be some trickery in this draw!” Yang Zixu complained, dissatisfied.

The Marquis of Hundred Battles’ household had sent three students to compete in the Lantern Festival martial trial, and now all of them had ended up matched against Li Fu and his friends.

“Well, this will be interesting. Aside from Wang Quan, whom you injured earlier, and Wang Han, whom I’ll be facing, and your opponent Wang Wei, we’ve drawn three of the Wang family’s Four Dragons…” Yang Zixu shook his head as he spoke.

Yang Ning’s luck was somewhat better—his opponent was a scion of a prominent family in the Eastern Capital, but upon hearing he was to face Yang Ning, the young man’s face turned ashen on the spot.

……

Next came the beginning of the arena duels. Even at this moment, Yang Zixu was still running around, taking bets on the outcomes of the matches. But it wasn’t long before he returned, utterly crestfallen.

“You’re up in the next round, and you still have the mind to fool around.” Yang Ning frowned, thumping Yang Zixu’s shoulder with a punch that was more affectionate than forceful.

“Be careful. Wang Han’s strength is not beneath yours,” Yang Ning cautioned as Yang Zixu was about to enter the arena.

“Don’t worry,” Yang Zixu replied with a nod and a smile.

On the stage, both participants wielded long spears. Words were few; after a brief moment of eye contact, before three breaths had passed, Wang Han advanced with spear in hand. His black iron spear crackled with threads of silver lightning, thin arcs of electricity dancing like a drizzle toward Yang Zixu.

At the instant Wang Han launched his attack, Yang Zixu’s expression grew grave. The evening sun’s glow faded from around it, leaving only a swath of rosy clouds draped above the horizon.

A streak of fiery red appeared in the arena, radiating from Yang Zixu’s silver spear. It looked warm, but that warmth hid a fierce and dangerous force. Scarlet clouds filled the sky—a sight both beautiful and breathtaking. This scene echoed the setting sun above.

“Setting Sun’s Circle!” a chorus of astonished cries rang out from the left corridor of the main hall.

That was where the notables and dignitaries of the Eastern Capital had gathered to watch the trials.

Yang Ning looked up at the evening clouds, silent. It was clear that Yang Zixu’s progress over the past year had far surpassed everyone’s expectations.

Beneath the corridor, a middle-aged man in military attire grew solemn, murmuring, “A river long and a setting sun round—trying to gather the sun’s power at the level of Earth Source Upper Realm… should I say you’re ignorant of your own limits, or simply courting death?”

“This boy is more talented than you. At best, you can reach the rank of Divine General, but he, at worst, will be ennobled,” an elderly man with white hair let a servant assist him to the railing. Squinting at the red glow in the sky, he smiled kindly.

“Father, after all these years, do you still think I’m unworthy of being a Divine General?” the middle-aged man replied coolly.

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“You earned the title of Divine General with your own merit on the battlefield, not because you basked in my shadow. Yet over the years, that man has become a demon in your heart, pressing down on you. Your attention has always been fixed on him. All the fighting spirit you once had has been worn away.” Old Master Yang squinted at Yang Zixu in the arena and suddenly spoke.

……

Suddenly, scarlet clouds surged on the stage, and a faint, gentle, and perfectly composed spear intent emerged within them.

The spear intent was like water—clear, pure, as if countless fathoms of seawater washed over the red clouds. At the spear’s tip, a pale red sun formed.

“He’s already gathered the sun? He must have broken into the Consciousness Vault Realm,” Yang Ning thought to himself, sensing the aura of that red sun.

The red sun pierced through the rain of lightning, striking straight at Wang Han—a cold gleam flashed in the night, heading for Wang Han’s face.

Wang Han barely twisted aside, beads of sweat on his brow catching the silver cold light. The attack grazed his shoulder.

Yang Zixu’s thrust suddenly turned into a sweeping motion, the momentum driving the spear shaft toward Wang Han’s chest.

With a sharp crack, Wang Han failed to dodge and was knocked clean off the stage.

“You!” Wang Han’s face was ashen. Just moments ago, he’d been brimming with confidence, yet he hadn’t managed to withstand even a single move from Yang Zixu. What’s more, his opponent’s cultivation was not as rumored—he had been utterly defeated! By tomorrow, all of the Eastern Capital would be abuzz with his humiliation.

“Fool. Didn’t even bother to learn the basics about your opponent, and you have the nerve to show your face here and make a fool of yourself.” Yang Zixu, never one to miss an opportunity to twist the knife, didn’t hold back.

“Earth Source Upper Realm!” Wang Han said in disbelief.

“Over a year at the front lines, and you’ve made so little progress you haven’t even broken into the Consciousness Vault Realm,” Yang Zixu mocked.

Yang Zixu stepped down from the arena and paused when he saw the middle-aged Divine General under the corridor, lost in thought. Without saying a word, he tossed his spear to Yang Ning, then strode over to stand beside Li Fu.

“You look exhausted,” Li Fu said, watching Yang Zixu sit on the ground.

“I’m all right,” Yang Zixu replied, eyes closed.

“You’re using the River and Setting Sun technique, but you’re doing it wrong. Most of your energy is wasted on the evening clouds, and you can’t draw them back. The sun’s true power isn’t coming through,” Li Fu said after a moment’s thought, unable to keep silent.

“How do you know?” Yang Zixu was startled. As Li Fu had said, this family spear technique poured energy into the clouds but much of it was lost in the process of gathering the sun.

“Because I’ve learned this technique too. I even know you skipped the ‘Lonely Smoke Sets’ move before this one,” Li Fu recalled how his teacher had demonstrated the technique to him.

He continued, “You could have beaten him without gathering the sun—would just have taken dozens more exchanges. But you insisted on finishing it in one blow, and now you’re pretty banged up.”

Yang Zixu opened his eyes, annoyed. “What do you mean, banged up? Where am I hurt?”

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Li Fu pointed at the small tears in Yang Zixu’s scholar’s robe, left by the arcs of lightning, then at the faint red line on his neck.

“And you call this banged up? Didn’t you see me knock Wang Han right off the stage!” Yang Zixu retorted, blushing with embarrassment. “It’s just a bit of overexertion, that’s all.” With that, he closed his eyes again.

Knowing how much Yang Zixu cared about saving face, Li Fu let the subject drop.

“Are you worried you won’t make it into Tiance?” he asked.

Yang Zixu, eyes still shut, answered with a grin, “Not at all. Of course I’ll make it into the Tiance Palace!”

Li Fu pressed, “Then is it for the royal reward?”

Yang Zixu opened his eyes and asked, “With the royal family being so stingy, what could they possibly offer? Will they ennoble me? Or hand over the ‘Sole Soul’ imperial sword?”

Li Fu looked at him intently. “So you’re not after a spot in Tiance, nor the royal reward. Why push yourself so hard? Forcing the sun’s gathering at your realm is dangerous—surely you know the risks.”

Li Fu sensed a deeper meaning in this and thought for a long time before tentatively asking, “What are you really trying to say?”

Li Fu said irritably, “That old man under the corridor is Old Master Yang, isn’t he? You’re just trying to prove yourself.”

“You figured that out?” Yang Zixu was surprised.

“The Setting Sun Spear is the Yang family’s signature technique—it’s hardly a secret,” Li Fu replied.

“Then how are you so sure that’s my grandfather?”

“Of the Eight Great Divine Generals, only two are still alive, and there’s only one Old Master Yang in the Eastern Capital. What do you think? Besides, I’m not blind,” Li Fu said.

Yang Zixu glanced toward the corridor and realized he’d forgotten his grandfather was here today. The old man leaned on the railing, gazing at the evening glow in the west, looking thoroughly content.

“I really did forget,” Yang Zixu muttered, but then something struck him as off. Hadn’t Li Fu just said there was another move to the Setting Sun Spear?

“The Setting Sun Spear is a family secret. How do you know it? And the sword technique you used to defeat Wang Quan earlier was the Grand Mentor’s Azure Lotus Sword, wasn’t it?” Yang Zixu’s expression grew serious.